


Not Yet

by caras_galadhon (Galadriel)



Category: Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: Community: contrelamontre, Early Mornings, Established Relationship, M/M, Morning After, New Zealand, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-04
Updated: 2013-08-04
Packaged: 2017-12-22 07:05:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/910328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Galadriel/pseuds/caras_galadhon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Viggo can't sleep through the wee small hours of the morning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Yet

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [](http://contrelamontre.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://contrelamontre.livejournal.com/)**contrelamontre** 's Late Night/Early Morning Challenge. Capture the atmosphere of an early morning scene, pre-dawn. Time limit: 30 minutes.

_4:01 am._ Viggo glared at the clock a final time and, in an act of what he hoped qualified as defiance, he turned away from it, rolling back towards the warm body beside him. Flat on his back, he threw an arm over his eyes, attempting to reinforce the darkness of the room, and waited for sleep.

_4:14 am._ Other than the susurrations of Sean's breath and the faint buzzing of the digital clock, the room was silent. Oppressively so.

Viggo gave up on waiting. He tossed the sheets off his body and swung his legs over the side of the bed, eliciting a sleepy grumble from Sean. Viggo scanned the floor; his jeans were crumpled in a heap in the corner, but they'd do.

Clad only in those paint stained jeans, he made his way into the hallway. John had left the door to the guest room open a crack, and as he walked by, Viggo could hear a rumbling that sounded suspiciously like faraway thunder. Someone had left the light in the bathroom on, and it spilled into the hall, reaching tentatively into the living room.

He crossed into the living room where Billy and Dom were curled up on the pull-out couch, Dom's face only inches away from an open pizza box, empty of everything except a dark lump Viggo assumed was an abandoned crust. A dark cluster on a side table suggested a set of empty glasses that had not made it to the kitchen. He could make out the hazy outlines of Elijah as he slept soundly in the recliner, and remembered almost too late that Orlando had made a nest of blankets and pillows for himself on the floor. He stepped over Orlando, leaning down to tug a quilt out from under his left foot, before making his way into the kitchen and out onto the back porch.

The air was pleasantly cool, and a slight breeze ruffled Viggo's hair as he draped the quilt around his shoulders and sat on the top step. He stared out into the yard, past Sean's line of newly-planted shrubs, into the blackness that the logical part of his mind knew was a stand of trees. As a child, this type of impenetrable darkness would have been the realm of threatening creatures, panting heavily in the dark, drooling at the prospect of hooking their claws into a young boy. He lived in a world of bright street lamps and perpetually passing headlights then, where the grey light of pre-dawn was enhanced by the omnipresent light pollution of the big city. New Zealand, on the other hand, offered Viggo a privacy one couldn't even hope for in L.A. Henry would enjoy this; he'd have to remember to wake him before dawn the next time he visited so that they could share these early morning hours.

The breeze carried with it the delicate scent of lilacs. Viggo inhaled deeply, trying to recall the details of a myth he'd heard about the flowers. Something about lilacs, planted on either side of a doorway, as warding off evil. He'd have to ask Sean. Surely he'd know. The air felt damp and clean in his lungs; rain was on the way, there was no mistaking it. If he was lucky, it would start in the next hour or so, and he would be able to go back to bed, fall asleep to the patter of rain on the roof, and wake to worms wriggling on the lawn, birds hopping after their breakfast. For now, though, Viggo was content to stare into the darkness and breathe it in.

The door opened and closed softly behind him, and he heard bare feet padding out onto the porch. He looked up, saw a bleary-eyed Sean grinning at him, and scooted over to give the other man a place to sit.

Sean plunked himself on the step, ran his fingers through hair too short to muss. He yawned. "Morning."

Viggo smiled. In the distance, he could hear the first birds warming up their vocal cords. "Not just yet."


End file.
